


Red is the Colour

by mellostopheles



Category: Deadly Premonition | Red Seeds Profile
Genre: M/M, Romantic Fluffy Popcorn, Sex and Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10202078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellostopheles/pseuds/mellostopheles
Summary: Instead of Emily, Thomas is the one who shows up at York's hotel room late one night. As York tries to keep Thomas calm and understand what has brought him there, it becomes clear the sheriff's assistant has something quite specific in mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bumblepuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumblepuppy/gifts).



York slumped down onto the bed and tapped his pocket, looking for the lighter. Another difficult day. He had just got back from the Galaxy of Terror and drinks with George and then Emily. He thought that for them it had been a necessary break from all the death that was steadily tightening a hand around the investigation. He was more used to it, naturally, and not as troubled. Though even he would admit that this many victims in such a short period of time was bad news.

“What do you think, Zach?” he murmured aloud. “We’re going to catch them soon, aren’t we? In fact, after tonight, I think we both have quite a clear picture of just what we’re –” But he was interrupted by a knock on the hotel door. He got to his feet and crossed the room. “Who do we think it is, Zach?” he whispered under his breath. “Emily?” He pulled open the door, expecting to see her there, still dressed the way she had been at the bar, but he was surprised. It was not Emily. It was Thomas standing there.

“Hello… Agent York,” Thomas said shyly. He was still wearing his uniform, but York noticed a tote bag slung over his arm. He also made a note of the way Thomas seemed unwilling to look him in the eye. Never a good sign, he thought.

“Thomas,” York said, pleasantly enough, stepping out of the way to let him inside the room. “I thought you were watching over Nick in the cells tonight.”

“Oh… I couldn’t, I’m afraid, I’m so sorry…” Thomas began at once, babbling. He clutched the strap of his bag tighter in his hand. “I felt like I was going insane down there tonight. I had to leave.”

“You had to leave?” York repeated, unsure he had heard him right. Thomas looked up at him suddenly, and York saw the wild, nervous look in his eyes. A man on the edge.

“Agent York,” Thomas said carefully, turning his eyes back to the floor. “I felt like a part of me was dying tonight, as I was sitting there, listening to Nick insisting over and over that he was innocent. It was unbearable. I had to make a choice. Could I really risk staying down there, even though I –” He cut himself off and shook his head, walking in little half circles around the patch of floor where he stood. He was so antsy, York thought to himself. Like he was a child trapped inside on a sunny day. “Well, what I mean,” Thomas went on, his voice wobbling around the edges. “Is that I decided not to stay and wait it out.”

“Thomas, I appreciate the situation you were in,” York said delicately, taking shallow steps towards him as if he was approaching a rabbit. “But as an officer, you have to know it was your job to stay. What if something went wrong?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Thomas blurted out. “I called Emily. Emily agreed to watch over the cells for me.” He hesitated, darting his eyes up at York for a moment. “She seemed a little put out… but she said she would do me the favour.” York relaxed. Good for Emily, he thought. Straight from the bar to the office, and all to help out a friend. He really did think she was one of the better local officers he had had the pleasure to work with. Now that he knew Nick was still under lock and key, he was much more ready to hear Thomas out.

“Then what brings you here?” York asked. “Surely, if you’re stressed, you should go home and relax.” He knew that when a case began to get on top of him, he treated himself to a movie. Admittedly, Thomas had never expressed much interest in the movies, but he had to have some preferred method of unwinding. Everyone did. As York watched him, Thomas shifted awkwardly between feet, twisting his lip as if he couldn’t settle on what he wanted to say. When he finally spoke, it all came out in one hasty blur.

“Actually, I needed to see you,” Thomas stammered, the words all blending into one another in his hurry to spit it out. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, more than I should, I know. Things feel like they could be different with you, that they might actually, possibly, be able to be good, but this is such a new area for me, that I’m still… working it all out.” He paused for a second to see if York was going to interrupt, but he waited patiently for Thomas to finish his speech. Emboldened, Thomas went on. “What I’m trying to say, gosh, is that when I was in the cells earlier, I knew I had to make a choice. I was at a crossroads. I had to decide if I wanted to stay… not just in the cells, I don’t mean that, but properly stay… or if I was going to leave. Try to do something else. Something… that might be better.” He finished, catching his breath, and waited, squeezing the strap of the bag even tighter against his shoulder.

“It sounds as if you made the right decision, Thomas,” York said slowly. “Although I admit I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about. Care to bring me up to speed?” Thomas nodded obediently. He walked towards York, small steps, looking for all intents and purposes like a baby deer attempting the journey across a frozen pond. When he was inches from York’s face, Thomas placed his gently shaking hands on York’s shoulders. He leant in close, and kissed him. York stood still, not breathing. Thomas drew back, smiling a wavering smile, and did a small hop backwards.

“That’s what I wanted,” he answered, the words soft and shy. He waited nervously for York’s reaction, clutching his hands together suddenly and twisting them back and forth.

“Zach… colour me surprised,” York murmured under his breath. “Thomas,” he went on, out loud. “I have to say, I didn’t expect this.”

“Oh god, oh my god,” Thomas whined, clasping his hands over his chest in panic. “You hated it! I was so wrong! I thought you might have suspected something, but you didn’t, and now I’ve… and you’re going to… oh please, you can’t tell anyone that I –!”

“Thomas, please calm down!” York cried out, raising his hands in a gesture of peace, putting on a smile. “Unexpected is not a code word for bad. Actually… I’m interested.” Thomas stopped still, dropping his hands to his sides at once. His face cleared of fear and was suddenly blank.

“Interested how?” he asked in a small voice.

“Well…” York started, realising that he was now the one stuck for words. “This is certainly a surprise, but if you say you’ve made up your mind. And you did say you’d made up your mind. Then I’d be happy to… uh… explore that with you.” It felt like a weak reply, but York was not good at talking to women, and he was even less able to talk to men. Certainly, when it came to matters of the heart, he was not and had never been a success. Thomas’ face lit up at once, and York decided that clumsy as his words had been, they had still delivered the right message.

“You have no idea… how happy that makes me!” Thomas gasped. “I hoped you would, oh, I really hoped there was a chance you might want to, but… well, I didn’t want to believe it.” He lowered his voice sharply, speaking as if he had now decided to convey an unwelcome secret. “Things don’t usually work out for me, York.” York nodded vaguely. He did not find that hard to believe. Nervy, perpetually frightened Thomas. The police officer who cried and vomited at crime scenes, who was built for gentler work. Whose sister was embroiled in something she refused angrily to talk about. No, York was fairly sure Thomas had never been more truthful than at this moment.

“I’m a little out of practice,” York admitted. “Work keeps me busy, of course, and… well. Things have a tendency of getting complicated, fast.”

“I think I understand,” Thomas said. He glanced down at the tote bag hanging off his arm, and back at York. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom for a moment first?” York gestured for him to go. As soon as Thomas had disappeared through the door, York went and sat on the sofa. On impulse, he stretched out his feet and rested them on the coffee table.

“This is new, Zach,” York muttered. “Thomas! Well, I wondered. There was something about him that gave it away. But having him come here, now that I didn’t see coming. It’s a pleasant twist, wouldn’t you say, Zach? Unlike those other murders… Our first truly welcome surprise of the investigation. I’m excited, Zach, this is going to get interesting. I can’t wait to see what happens.” He was waiting awhile. Thomas’ return was announced by a small knock on the inside of the bathroom door, which made York turn. Then the door opened, and Thomas stepped back into the hotel bedroom. And he looked different. York dropped his feet to the floor and sat up straight.

Thomas had changed his outfit. The drab police uniform was gone. He had replaced it with a red dress, an evening gown really, reminiscent of the one his sister wore on stage. Except this one appeared to be slashed up the side, cut all the way to the top of the thigh, and when Thomas moved forward, York saw the tell-tale shimmer of plasticy fishnet stockings underneath. The dress itself clung to Thomas as surely as if he had worn it through the rain, and York saw for the first time the real outlines of Thomas’ figure. He was slim. Undoubtedly his ribs would show through his skin. His legs were long, and he looked even taller than his already impressive height in the heels he had chosen. Red with a sturdy stiletto heel, slightly wider than was usual. The top of the dress was filled out to give the illusion of breasts, though York would admit it made a good addition to the overall image. When he was able to drag his eyes away from the outfit, York saw that Thomas was clearly a talent with a makeup brush as well. He had covered his cheeks with a faded pink blush that brought out his cheekbones, and his eyes, now out from under the glasses, seemed darker and the lashes heavier. York did not know enough about makeup to know what Thomas had done, but the effect was dramatic. The nervous shrinking violet he had come to know from the sheriff’s department had all but vanished. Thomas was a completely different person.

“Zach –!” York said in a choked whisper.

“I hope it’s not too much,” Thomas said, and York noticed that even his voice was different. It came out airily, as an act of performance.

“You look like a holdover from old Hollywood, Thomas,” York muttered. He knew he was still staring. He doubted Thomas would care, and he was right. Thomas smiled and came over to the sofa, leaning down and scooping up York’s chin in his hands.

“We all have our secrets,” Thomas murmured to him. “I have this. You have Zach, whoever he is. We might be more alike than we know.”

“Thomas,” York snorted, amused. “If I thought I had a chance of looking like you do now, I’d be tempted to dress like that every day. I don’t think you can compare us.” Thomas was tickled by the compliment, he put a hand to his glossy lips and laughed coquettishly.

“You know what I meant, I hope,” he said. “We have something in common, don’t we? It must be easier in the city. In a small town, well, people talk. You have to be careful who you confide in.” York nodded, he thought he understood. He had been a city boy for the best part of his life, and while he had never much utilised the chance to confide in anyone about anything, he was aware that he and Thomas came from slightly different worlds.

“Are you going to show me what you had in mind, Thomas…?” York asked. He was impatient at the best of times, and now he felt it especially strongly. It had been a while since he had had the privilege of spending time with a beautiful stranger. He had not expected Greenvale to be one of the places for it. Thomas looked curiously down at him.

“York, I’ve got to say, I expected you’d want to be in control,” Thomas admitted. “At work, you always take charge of everything. I think George…” He stopped, cleared his throat, and then went on. “I think it bothers the sheriff, it’s that pronounced.” York did not know what his preference for working alone had to do with tonight’s events. He would argue that there was no conflict between how he acted during a case, and how he was going to act now.

“That’s because I know I’m good at what I do,” York replied. “Based on the effort you’ve put in so far tonight, I expect you’re good at this.” He may as well be straightforward. Thomas narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head with an air of suspicion.

“Have you been with a man before, York?” Thomas asked slowly.

“Not for some time…” York confessed. “I did tell you that work keeps me busy. Zach and I… well, _I_ don’t have much time for relationships. And it’s like you said, sometimes it’s difficult to confide in people. I’m not good at approaching people…” He trailed off, letting a weak smile cross his face. “You may have noticed from my failure to impress the locals that I am not exactly a people person. Imagine that, for a limited period of time in towns across America, never at home for very long. It’s not easy to date in my situation, Thomas.” He felt better with that off his chest. Most of the men that York had had the pleasure of knowing on an especially _personal_ level had been back in his younger days. Back when he was a punk, the spiked hair and safety pins had felt like a kind of costume, and he’d found it was easier to talk openly when he was already under scrutiny for something as basic as the clothes he was wearing. When everyone already thought you were up to something, it was much easier to do whatever you felt like. Fuck it.

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, then,” Thomas offered, and York was reassured by his show of consideration. He doubted it would come up, though, he was never one to back away from something new. Thomas gave York a kiss and then knelt down in front of him. York felt hands unzipping his fly followed a moment later by Thomas’ lips brushing the tip of his cock. He twitched. Thomas edged his tongue across the tip and then brought it into his mouth. York shivered.

“When was the last time we did this, Zach?” he mumbled. Thomas could probably still hear him. That would have to be all right, as he was bound to slip up and talk to Zach out loud more than usual. He always did. That was the issue with getting distracted. Thomas began to slide his lips down York’s cock with an enviable talent. York caught himself staring down at the top of Thomas’ head and realised he wasn’t exactly taking part. In response, he ran his hands through the thick, dark waves of Thomas’ hair, feeling it brush softly across his fingers.

York leant his head back, closing his eyes to the moment. Thomas certainly knew what he was doing. York held back on saying anything. He felt certain that kind of compliment would sound wrong out loud. Besides, he remembered how shy Thomas had been just having his baking skills complimented. He didn’t want to risk interrupting. He stroked Thomas’ hair, moving his hand around in lazy circles.

“Almost enough to make me want to do it more often,” York muttered, again trying to keep the words under his breath, knowing they were probably audible. “Zach, you’ve never seen much point in it. But doesn’t this… ah… doesn’t it change your mind?” He felt the shake of a single muffled laugh from Thomas, the faint sensation of his lips stretching into a smile. Then a moment later Thomas was back into the pattern. York smiled as well, running his teeth over his bottom lip. He wasn’t going to be judged on his inner monologue, then. At least not unfavourably.

“That’s just perfect, Thomas,” he said aloud. In response, Thomas ran the back of his hand over York’s leg, stroking him affectionately with the knuckles. York took his hand from Thomas’ hair and fiddled with one of the straps of his dress, toying with the thin line of fabric and using it to pull Thomas slightly closer. Thomas shifted his knees towards York, bowing his head lower and taking him deeper into his mouth. York twitched in response, taking hold of the sofa cushion with both hands and squeezing his knuckles hard against it.

“Thomas, that’s… isn’t it, Zach?” he moaned, the words thick and heavy. It was hard to think. The part of his brain that remained able to focus thought he was still not doing enough, though what he was meant to do he did not know. He felt unqualified to interrupt Thomas’ process. Thomas, much unlike how he was when the two saw each other at work, seemed to know exactly what he needed to do. York bit into his lip, thinking at least that he could avoid giving a complete running commentary. Thomas’ mouth was quickly getting the better of him, he could feel it. Even if he had been better prepared for the experience, if tonight’s turn of events had not been a surprise, he still felt he would have been easily overwhelmed.

“A little longer, Zach…” York murmured. Thomas reached up with one hand and gripped his knee, sucking harder, and York let out a muted cry. He dug his fingernails into the sofa and waited for the moment to arrive. As he reached the peak, he let go and reached out for Thomas instead, gripping his arms tight. He came with a yelp and felt Thomas relax around him. A moment later, Thomas pulled back, covering his mouth with one hand. He swallowed hard and looked up at York. York bent down on impulse and kissed Thomas on the forehead, earning a warm, shy smile. Thomas let out a breath and stood up, statuesque in the red dress once more.

“How was that?” he asked.

“As you probably know, it was something to remember,” York answered. Thomas giggled as York grinned. He stood as well, kissing Thomas on the cheek, taking and grasping his hand. “But what now?” he asked.

“Well… I can leave,” Thomas said hesitantly. “Now that we’re done, if you want me to go, I will. I know that that’s how… some people… prefer it.” York had to admit he was confused. The idea that he would kick Thomas out seconds after they’d had sex would never have crossed his mind. He felt that, frankly, anyone whose mind it did cross, was not worth Thomas’ time.

“Maybe something else instead,” York suggested. “We could sit on the bed for a while? If you wanted to.” Thomas’ face brightened. York assumed that was a yes. He walked towards the bed, rezipping his trousers, and sat down. Thomas joined him, choosing to sit on his lap instead of beside him. York wrapped his arms around Thomas’ waist, holding him up. Without missing a beat, Thomas leant in to kiss York, cupping his cheeks in his hands. Once again, York was happy to let Thomas take control of the situation. He let Thomas press kisses firmly against his lips, a flurry, and soon the two of them were making out. It was something York was sure he hadn’t done since he was in his early twenties, at the latest. But it felt good. Fun. He moved his hands around, pawing faintly at Thomas’ back and hips, looking for anything to squeeze on the thin frame. Thomas began to draw back after several minutes, sucking York’s tongue as a finishing touch, and then tapping his nose gently against the tip of York’s, smiling.

“This feels right,” he said quietly. “It really feels like something good.”

“It’s been a nice evening so far,” York agreed. He did agree, thoroughly. He was feeling quite at home here, holding Thomas on his lap. It might change the dynamic down at the sheriff’s department from now on, he had to admit, but it was worth it.

“Would you like to keep going?” Thomas asked. He sounded so much shyer than usual, York thought. He really had a problem with the talking parts. Thomas seemed so comfortable and confident when it came to the doing. He was clearly used to it. He was certain of how everything physical would play out. He just couldn’t seem to approach anything he wanted when it was time to use his words.

“I’d be happy to,” York said. “If you do.” Thomas smiled, ducking his head and raising his shoulders to hide his expression. York eased Thomas off his lap and onto the bed. At once, Thomas reached his skinny arms up and grabbed onto York, pulling him on top of him, back to more kisses. Thomas’ hands slowly found their way downwards until he was tucking his fingers into the top of York’s waistband. York had removed his jacket and tie when he first got in, as he usually did, but otherwise he was still fully dressed. As they kissed, he knocked his feet against the edge of the bed, trying to kick off his shoes. Eventually they were thrown off, onto the floor. Thomas planted a hand on York’s shoulder and pushed him away, then further, collapsing him onto his back on the bed with a cushiony thump. York grinned eagerly. He sensed where this was going.

“I want to keep the dress on, if that’s all right,” Thomas said, a little more firmly than much of what he had said tonight. York nodded agreement. Thomas hoisted himself into a sitting position over York, and quickly went to work unbuttoning his shirt. He ran his hands across York’s exposed chest, focused, then moved on to the trousers. He had them off in a moment. When York was naked, Thomas stood.

“Second thoughts, do you think, Zach?” York breathed.

“No, no,” Thomas assured him. “I just have some more things in the bag. Er, that I brought just in case. Well… I’ll just go get them.” He vanished back to the bathroom. York wormed his way further up the bed towards the pillows, and made sure to chuck his shirt onto the floor. No point adding to his dry-cleaning bill. Thomas returned with condoms in one hand and a small bottle in the other. He approached the bed.

“It’ll be easier if you take charge,” York said, understanding the questioning look on Thomas’ face. “I trust you’ll do the best job of it.” Thomas didn’t argue. He clambered back onto the bed, hovering over York on his hands and knees. York watched him as he began to adjust the skirt of the dress, but an anxious look from Thomas persuaded him to stop. Instead, he avoided looking, and waited.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“Yes.” Thomas guided York’s legs to the sides and drew in close. Their faces were near to one another when Thomas pushed into York. York sunk his head deeply back into the pillow and closed his eyes. He could feel Thomas breathing on his mouth. Feel the thrusts. Feel Thomas squeezing his arms in his grip. It was good being so close to someone again. It had been too long.

“We should do our best to sound appreciative, Zach,” York murmured under his breath. He heard Thomas let out a shallow laugh in the middle of a burst of heavy breaths.

“You make it easy to read your mind, York,” he panted. The breath came hot and fast against York’s skin, warming his cheeks.

“Zach and I, we think… why bother hiding anything right now?” York said, failing to keep his voice steady and ending the sentence with a moan. His eyes were still closed, and he intended to keep them closed, but he could hear and feel everything in painful detail. He preferred it this way. A dark world of sensation. Never running the risk of making eye contact with the other person at the wrong moment, catching their look of confusion as he slipped up and made another aside to Zach. That was a lesson he had learnt well by now, and even if Thomas seemed to be understanding, it was not a risk he was willing to put in the cards. What he didn’t see wouldn’t hurt him.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Thomas breathed, just as an afterthought. He kept pace, and York reached a hand up blindly, trying to find his face. He ran the hand against Thomas’ cheek gently, then ran it through his hair, the black curls once again soft against his affectionate fingers. York parted his lips and Thomas panted hard into his mouth. Then a kiss, a quick one. Then it began to grow faster, Thomas building up the pace, and York found himself moaning, lost in the feeling in the dark.

“It could go on forever, Zach,” he said, as silently as he could. “And right now, I’d let it.”

It did not go on forever, of course, and when Thomas did come, York finally opened his eyes. The two men stared at one another, largely out of breath, and as Thomas moved to pull out, York grabbed hold of him hard and kissed him roughly. When he was done, he let go, and Thomas pulled out, before lying down on the pillow next to York. And they looked at each other again.

“Thank you for giving me this tonight,” Thomas said gently. There was not a single hint left that he could ever have been in control of the situation for a single moment. He was all sweetness. Soft skin and soft eyes. “It meant a lot to me, that you didn’t just turn me away. I thought you would.”

“Well, I didn’t,” York said. “And I feel as if I should thank you, for that. Or at least…” He thought for a moment before realising the right thing to say. “Would you like to stay the night?” Thomas looked at him in shock, his mouth, smudged lipstick and all, hanging open.

“N-no-one ever wants me to stay the night…” he said in surprise. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it, Thomas,” York said, grinning a little. “You’ve seen the size of this bed. There’s plenty of room.” Thomas propelled himself the half foot into York’s arms, wrapping his arms fiercely around York’s middle and burying his face deep in his chest.

“Please,” his muffled answer came. “Yes, yes, please.” York was curious about the strength of Thomas’ reaction, but he knew not to pry. He chose to hug Thomas back instead, balancing his chin on the top of Thomas’ head.

“All right, then,” he murmured gently. “We’ll do that.” York shut his eyes again, lazily, letting the world fade to black.


End file.
